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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474336">stains</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairybog/pseuds/fairybog'>fairybog</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Backwards Bois Reverse Au Stuff [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Good Omens Reverse AU, M/M, Non Explicit Sex, some starmaker angst!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:00:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairybog/pseuds/fairybog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>caelum and astraphel have a conversation about stardust and mull over the danger of these trysts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>caelum / astraphel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Backwards Bois Reverse Au Stuff [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>stains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>like i said, not linear. this takes place after they've begun a relationship, which i. haven't finished writing yet. author sins ftw.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Grumblegripe," Astraphel says amicably as he weaves the next portion of Caelum's still damp hair into an overly elaborate braid. "How on Earth do you have this purple and green to your hair?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum, breath not quite even and head swimming with golden fog, grumbles gripily at the nickname as always. They're far past the game of Caelum attempting to dissuade Astraphel from using it. He's utterly wrecked and still naked, sitting in Astraphel's lap and nearly dozing beneath the tug and twist of the demon's fingers in his hair. It takes a moment to register the question through the haze of the afterglow. "What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel chuckles and finishes the plait, tucking it into the masterpiece of hairstyling he's well aware will be slept on and mangled for all his effort if he doesn't undo it himself before they part. The process buys time, especially when performed slowly. "Well, it's red, yes?" </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clever, very astute.</span>
  </em>
  <span> "And you've got so much fire in it, all the gold and orange you'd expect," he twists a loose lock around his finger, letting the pad of the digit graze Caelum's ear just to feel the full body shiver in his lap. "But in certain lights, or.. perhaps angles, rather, there are these flashes of purple and green, dark like a beetle's wings." He would swear the cooler shimmers pulse of their own accord through the angel's tresses, dance and shift across single strands for only a blink. "Please don't misunderstand me, it's absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>fascinating</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Bewitching is probably more accurate a term. " It's just odd. Curious."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum goes very, very still, and Astraphel's heart sinks as he resigns himself to yet another unpredictable misstep leading to yet another hasty retreat from one another. And to run him off after such a lovely time, too! He knew being allowed to play with his hair like this after their, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rendezvous</span>
  </em>
  <span> this evening was too rare a gift to last. Too vulnerable, too comfortable, too perfect. Just as he opens his mouth to try and brush the query under the rug, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nevermind it's nothing kiss me again or I might go mad</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Caelum's shoulders slump and he releases a long, shaky breath.The shadows in the corners of the room flutter as the candle sighs alongside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He isn't running.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's.. it's stardust." Caelum braces himself against the hollow feeling rising in his core. "Won't come off. S'on my w-wings too?" One day his voice won't break over the mention of his wings. His voice won't break and his halo will go back to where it should be and he won't have to triple ward a room just to speak to Astraphel, much less to sit in his lap post-coitus letting him do ridiculous things to his hair. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really pushing it this time,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks, as if the last dozen trysts haven't been precarious and reckless in their own rights. The candle on the table flickers low, hot enough to make the wax pop and he digs a fingernail into his palm to bring himself back down. Astraphel's hands have started methodically unbraiding the extravagant nightmare he'd just spent an exorbitant amount of time installing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why would you want it off?" Astraphel whispers, cursing the lump in his throat. "It's beautiful." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum risks a glance over his shoulder at the soft way the question leaves Astraphel's lips, finds him steadily focused on his task. If he didn't know better, he'd think there was sadness in the eyes that won't quite meet his own. "Well," he starts. Trips over his thoughts and spins. "I don't.. I should never have come back down, should I? Should've.. stayed with them, instead of.. Now I can't-" He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid tears and fails. Another point for the One Day List; one day he won't cry after sex, won't be held together by such brittle thread and undone so completely by four letter words. "I can't go </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can go.. up? Out there, near them? But they don't know me anymore. Don't.. don't remember which of my thoughts they started as or how they singed me? Don't acknowledge their Names. Not if it's my voice. Took them from me too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel's fingers are scratching a spiral pattern into his scalp, tender and terribly distracting. Unfair. He's waiting patiently for Caelum to continue, and Caelum would give anything to love him just the slightest bit less in this moment, just for a moment. Just so everything isn't so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It's overwhelming, the swell of affection warring with the still raw loss of his purpose, the fear of this beautiful secret thing they share but can't name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The flame swells again, alarmingly bright and flashing a skittish pattern. Astraphel takes a slow, deep breath and is unduly pleased when Caelum's breath falls in step like it's second nature for them to inhale in unison. Some tension bleeds from Caelum's posture, and the fire settles as he speaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I.. It's just another stain now?" There's the subconscious touch of slender fingertip to long throat, brushing against the holy shackle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Scritch, scritch, tug. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"I used to- to meld with them when they first bore light, it wasn't.. me and them? It just was?" </span>
  <em>
    <span>Scritch, scritch, scritch. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"You have to Breathe them into being, you know? They're not just formed, they're taken from you, made of you. And they're.. we... I can't go </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
  <em>
    <span>Scritch, tug, scritch. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"They don't recognise me anymore. Not really? Like seeing someone who looks like an old friend except for that one freckle, or- or- or the color of their eyes, or realizing too late, no, that's not their voice? Wading through lives so far apart you couldn't trust your mental image of them anyway. Lost important details before you even.. even knew they could be missed? Wave politely and wonder why I was staring.."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel's hands still a moment and then mercifully drape the now unwoven hair about Caelum's face like a shroud. A modicum of privacy. He presses a kiss to the side of Caelum's head and elects to ignore both the poorly stifled sob and the way it makes him ache to hear it. Caelum so rarely talks about his stars, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can't let himself think about what this means or he'll never let him go again. They've been in this room too long already, opened too much potential for discovery. Astraphel wishes time and its unyielding march forward would leave them fucking be for once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It sounds more like you switched roles, though I can't pretend to know the first thing about the intimacies of starmaking." He smiles at the bitter chuckle he gets in response, exhales hot against the nape of Caelum's neck and delights in the way Caelum presses back against him. It's a start. He wraps his arms around the angel's slim waist and pulls him closer, slides his hands across the smooth, still flushed skin. "They're a part of you now, instead of you a part of them." He skates a hand lower, finds a willing response to his touch and takes the chance. "Beautiful."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One day</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Astraphel thinks, a new promise in motion, the next goal, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm going to make you believe me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum melts into the embrace despite himself, biting back a smile. "Y'know what, fuck you and your big, strong arms." He's veering towards breathlessness already, tries not to think about the way it feels to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>held</span>
  </em>
  <span> like this. Tries to focus on the physical, skin to skin and nothing deeper, and not the way he dreads morning's unavoidable arrival. Astraphel moves beneath him and he makes a truly undignified noise, winces at the need in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My arms? The logistics of that... I'm certain we could find a way, if you're truly inclined," Astraphel laughs as he buries his face into the red waves. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soft</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks for what must be the hundredth time tonight alone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he is, this almost-Fallen wreck letting himself be taken apart a second time in his lap. They spend a moment breathing in the scent of sweat and power left in the space around them, find a new rhythm in the beats between their breaths. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Silk and stardust and </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>mine</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He dips lower and nips at the golden freckles on Caelum's shoulder, relishes in the possessive heat already pooling in his middle at Caelum's hitched breath, at the tremble of belly against his palms. "I have it on </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> good authority that I can be impressively imaginative should such the situation arise."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, a gift; one loud bark of rough, real laughter bursts forth from Caelum at that, face aglow and eyes molten gold. Astraphel pretends the shock it sends through him isn't pure, hopeless devotion as Caelum twists to face him, straddles his hips. Caelum's smiling and leaning in and Astraphel is weak and greedy for that grin against his mouth. He pretends the bruises on both their hips are the only claim he wants to stake, something corporeal and surface level, even as he feels his heart be stolen over and over again as they kiss. Caelum kisses his mind blissfully quiet, nimble hands migrating back through silver ringlets to curl around his horns, holding him still and steady as he licks into his mouth. They shift back down onto the secret fortress of blankets and cushions, laughing into the next round.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The candlelight jumps, bright and high, not long after and is disappointed by the miracle still dutifully keeping the walls unscorched by wayward empathetic flame. There is a shift in the nest of bedding, a few nonsensical, giddy murmurs of contentment against kiss swollen mouths, ice blue eyes watching lids close over gold opal. There is an hour of fitful sleep for the once starmaker, Astraphel covetously memorizing the way he looks in this room, in this light, on these blankets. He adds the image to the mental trove of treasured moments and allows the dreaded four letter word to brush against the moment's edge before gently covering Caelum's bare shoulders with a blanket. Spares himself a second to compose his thoughts before rising.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astraphel leaves first this time, but not before testing the depth of Caelum's slumber with one last braid, one more selfish mark, hidden in the tousled mane behind his right ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caelum dreams in fragments, of cold white walls and a locked golden gate, of vast darkness full of lonesome stars that can't remember who it is they miss, of kind words and blue eyes. Wakes briefly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Falls back into sleep and dreams of soft lips and strong hands and gentle fingertips, secret places and the hope of future safety. </span>
</p>
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